


whatever a moon has always meant

by Quintessence



Series: whumptober requests 2020 [3]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sleep Deprivation, Whump, Whumptober 2020, and frequently runs himself into the ground attempting to help others, gon is actually very selfless, honestly it's kinda a 2020 mood rn, my hot hxh take:, this is just 'self care isn't selfish': the fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quintessence/pseuds/Quintessence
Summary: “'That’s what I’m trying to tell you,' Killua says, firm but gentle.  'You’re not slowing down.  If you let yourself rest properly, you’ll actually be more efficient.  I think you should take the rest of the day off, get as much sleep as you want tonight, and pick things back up tomorrow.'All at once, tears gather in Gon’s eyes, and he begins to tremble, so violently that Killua can see it from across the kitchen.'What right do I have to that?' Gon all but shouts, his voice breaking.  'People are being hurt and I’m one of the few people who can actually do something about it, so what right do I have to relax?  The people who are in trouble aren’t getting to relax!  Not even for a moment!  Why should I get that luxury?'"In which Gon tries to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and stumbles under the load.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Series: whumptober requests 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975504
Comments: 45
Kudos: 241





	whatever a moon has always meant

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is 100% dedicated to the person who sent me an anon several months ago asking if i was planning any fics where killua saves gon & totally made me realize i don't have nearly enough of that dynamic on my account. gon is my sunshine darling angel child & deserves comfort too!!!!
> 
> this is a whumptober request from my dear friend sapphira for the prompts of "exhaustion" and "sleep deprivation." i had a ton of fun with it, so i hope you enjoy!!!!
> 
> no major warnings for this one, but there is vaguely referenced human trafficking if you'd rather avoid that.
> 
> title is from one of my fave ee cummings poems!!!!
> 
> alright, pls enjoy!!!!!

Eventually, Killua catches on. Gon’s many things, but subtle isn’t one of them.

First, he breaks a dish pouring himself a bowl of cereal. That alone is enough to raise Killua’s suspicion--Gon’s reflexes are downright uncanny, so for him to drop something clumsily in the kitchen strikes Killua as very odd. And when he comes into the kitchen to check that everything is okay, Gon’s simply standing there, unblinking, staring at the broken ceramic shards and broad splatter of milk and scattered corn puffs as if he doesn’t quite know how it all got there.

“Are you okay?” Killua asks. It somehow comes out far more urgent than he intended.

Gon slowly raises his gaze to meet Killua’s eyes. For a few long moments, he simply stares, as if he were looking straight through Killua, with an odd, haunted expression. But then he finally blinks, and the spell breaks and he’s suddenly himself again, rubbing at the back of his neck and offering Killua a small, sheepish smile.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just wasn’t paying enough attention. Don’t worry--I’ll take care of the mess.”

Killua feigns put-upon annoyance, rolling his eyes dramatically, to mask the hint of unease that’s begun to churn in his stomach.

“Let me help you,” he says, reaching under the sink for some cleaning supplies. “I don’t want the floor to be all sticky because you half-assed the clean up.”

And then Gon laughs, bright and warm and good-natured, and accepts the roll of paper towel Killua holds out to him with a smile, and it seems like things just might be okay, Like this was really just a small, meaningless mistake.

But the security Killua’s so determinedly clinging to, the half-desperate belief that things are fine, doesn’t last long. Because Gon starts stumbling over his speech.

It isn’t a constant thing, but a few times a day, Gon will end up stuttering, or suddenly lose his train of thought mid-sentence, or forget simple words. Gon’s not exactly one for long, eloquent speeches, but when he talks, it’s clear and direct. Tripping over his words, trailing off when he suddenly can’t remember what he meant to say--it just isn’t like him.

Of course, Killua’s mind immediately goes to the worst. What if Gon’s ill? What if he’s developed some sort of neurological condition, something serious? Searching the Internet does little to allay Killua’s fears--he gets far more results about degenerative diseases and brain tumors than he’d wanted. After a few desperate searches that all suggest complete catastrophe, he slams the laptop shut and orders himself to stop looking. All he’s doing is worrying himself more.

The only thing that keeps Killua from panicking entirely is that besides a small bout of clumsiness here or the occasional mistake in his speech there, Gon is otherwise himself. There’s a trafficking ring here in Yorknew that they’re working to investigate, hoping to identify the key players, discover the base of their operations, and free the victims, and Gon is as dedicated to the assignment as ever. He’s always the most passionate about these sorts of missions, the ones where he gets to help people. Gon’s still working when Killua goes to sleep every night, and when Killua wakes in the morning, he’s already halfway through a pot of coffee. His energy doesn’t waver in the slightest, not even as the odd new symptoms appear, and Killua clings to that. If something were seriously wrong, surely Gon would be showing other signs, wouldn’t he? Pain or fatigue or weakness or _something_ , right? Maybe he’s simply so dedicated to the assignment that he’s just become a bit absentminded when it comes to other parts of his life. That would be possible, wouldn’t it? Killua tells himself that it is. And he continues to tell himself, over and over. That is, until Gon nearly crashes his car.

Fine, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. But he nearly runs a stoplight, speeding towards the intersection as if he simply doesn’t see the three large red lights looming in front of them. At first, Killua doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to backseat drive, and surely Gon notices that the light’s red. Surely he sees the cars whizzing through the intersection. He still has time to stop. Plenty of time. It’s not like he absolutely needs to start braking now. It’s fine.

But as the intersection draws nearer, Gon still makes no move to slow down the car. Killua looks over at him, and he’s simply staring ahead blankly, eyes unfocused. The car just continues to speed down the road, closer and closer to the crowded intersection, and Gon just continues to stare, as if he weren’t really seeing what’s in front of him. Killua clears his throat, hoping to break Gon from this strange daze, but he doesn’t even blink. He just hurtles ever closer to the traffic with that odd, vacant expression, totally unaware of anything around him.

Killua’s heart begins to pound. They draw closer, and Gon _still_ doesn’t slow the car. And closer. And--

“Gon!” Killua finally shouts. “Red light!”

Gon starts and finally blinks, brow furrowing. And all at once, the haze clears. His eyes go wide and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Oh, shit!”

Gon manages to brake in time, but the stop is abrupt, tossing Killua forward against his seatbelt before he falls backward again.

“Sorry, Killua,” Gon says. “I guess I just zoned out for a little bit. I’m glad you caught that.”

And then it all comes together at once. The clumsiness, the stumbling over his words, the inattention while driving. It suddenly makes perfect sense. Killua really was an idiot not to realize it over the past few weeks, but he supposes he’s always had a bit of a blind spot when it comes to Gon. Gon just always seems infallible, his stores of strength and tenacity always appear limitless, and Killua knows he has a tendency to trust him to a fault. But Gon’s still human. In some ways, far more human than most people.

“It’s fine,” Killua replies. “Just try to pay attention, okay?”

They’re going to discuss this, but Killua doesn’t want to distract Gon while he drives, so it’ll have to wait until they get home. Fortunately, they aren’t far, and the rest of the trip passes without incident. Killua spends the time mulling over how exactly to bring it up to Gon. Tact has never exactly been Killua’s strongest suit, so he supposes he’ll be direct about it. No doubt if he tries to approach things in a careful, roundabout way, Gon will deflect the conversation, flash a wide, bright smile, and simply resolve to hide things better from Killua from then on. So Killua will simply have to corner him, and hold firm when he tries to wriggle his way out of the conversation with a cheerful facade and some hollow reassurances.

So as soon as they’re back inside and have taken off their shoes and coats, Killua approaches it head on.

“Gon, when was the last time you slept?” he asks bluntly.

Gon goes still for a moment, his back to Killua as he heads towards the kitchen, but then he chuckles good-naturedly and keeps walking, going straight to the coffee maker.

“I slept last night, Killua. I’m not you--I can’t stay up for days on end like that.”

Killua sighs. Of course he’s dodging the question. It’s Gon, after all. He’d never admit vulnerability that easily.

“Okay, I’m going to rephrase that. When was the last time you slept for more than four hours at a time?”

For a moment, something disarmed and startled flashes on Gon’s face, but he quickly schools it back into a pleasant cheerfulness.

“I’m sorry that I worried you in the car just now,” he says, scooping coffee grounds into the filter. “I’ll be more careful next time. But I promise you that I’m fine.”

Killua clenches his jaw.

“That didn’t answer the question,” he says. “Look, Gon, I’m not stupid. I’ve noticed how late you go to bed, and how early you get up in the morning. I’ve noticed how clumsy and absentminded you’ve gotten. You can try to avoid this conversation as much as you want, but it’s happening whether you like it or not. You’re exhausted. And you need to rest.”

Gon smiles as he sets the coffee maker, but it looks far too strained.

“I’m fine. Sure, I’ve been burning the midnight oil occasionally, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, this assignment is important, so I’m just going to have to push through until we’re finished. It’s only temporary.”

“You’re no good to anyone when you’re this exhausted,” Killua counters. “Sleep deprivation doesn’t just feel like shit; it makes you slower and less accurate, physically and mentally. You’ll get more done in less time if you actually get eight solid hours of sleep.”

Gon’s shoulders begin to raise in that particular way that always means he’s upset, so Killua heads into the kitchen and leans up against the wall. He isn’t going to let up on this--it’s too important not to address--but he does want to be near Gon in case he needs him.

“I can’t,” Gon says softly. “I can’t afford to slow down now. People are suffering, Killua. I can’t just take a break when I could be helping them.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Killua says, firm but gentle. “You’re not slowing down. If you let yourself rest properly, you’ll actually be more efficient. I think you should take the rest of the day off, get as much sleep as you want tonight, and pick things back up tomorrow.”

All at once, tears gather in Gon’s eyes, and he begins to tremble, so violently that Killua can see it from across the kitchen.

“What right do I have to that?” Gon all but shouts, his voice breaking. “People are being hurt and I’m one of the few people who can actually do something about it, so what right do I have to relax? The people who are in trouble aren’t getting to relax! Not even for a moment! Why should I get that luxury?”

The tears finally spill down his cheeks, but he holds Killua’s gaze, something equal parts fierce and terrified in his eyes. Killua’s heart clenches, sudden and desperate, in his chest.

In truth, Killua’s never been very good at these sorts of situations. Comforting and soothing are far more Gon’s domains than his. But Gon’s simply standing there, crying and trembling and hurting, and Killua has to do something. So before he can think better of it, before he can convince himself that Gon doesn’t really want it and that he’ll only be making things worse, he crosses the kitchen and pulls Gon tight to his chest. One hand sits between Gon’s shoulder blades and the other comes to cradle the back of his head, gently pulling him down to rest his forehead on Killua’s shoulder. And that must be what finally breaks the dam, because Gon starts to cry in earnest, desperate sobs shaking his whole frame.

“It’s okay,” Killua murmurs. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”

Killua strangely finds that the reassurances come easily to him. And that he naturally begins to rub Gon’s back and stroke his hair, slow and soothing, as he repeats the same few phrases, over and over. He isn’t sure where any of this is coming from--it’s not like he has much experience with comforting people--but it’s as if someone cast a spell on him, and he moves and speaks without thinking. Gon’s hurting, and suddenly Killua could do anything, could handle any situation in his path, provided it would help ease his pain.

Gon reaches up and clings to Killua, his fingers digging tight into his back. He’s shaking so badly Killua’s surprised he’s staying on his feet, and his chest hitches with deep, quiet sobs. Eventually, Killua eases them to the ground so that they’re sitting on the cool tile floor, Gon still held tight in Killua’s arms.

It doesn’t feel like enough, simply holding Gon and murmuring the same few words, but it’s the best Killua’s got. Gon feels impossibly small in his arms, like something very delicate and fragile, mere moments away from shattering entirely. So Killua just holds him, tight and unwavering, as if that alone could protect him.

And eventually, Gon calms. The sobs gradually slow into deep, full breaths, and the trembling begins to subside. Killua keeps holding him until he decides to pull back, wiping roughly at his eyes with his shirtsleeve. Without knowing why, Killua brings his hands to rest on Gon’s upper arms. It’s an instinct he can’t exactly explain, but he somehow feels like it’ll help.

“I’m sorry,” Gon murmurs. “That was a pretty big overreaction, huh?”

Compelled by that same unexplainable instinct, Killua reaches up and brushes Gon’s hair back from his forehead.

“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should’ve noticed how much this was consuming you.”

Gon lowers his gaze to the floor.

“I just can’t stop thinking about it. There are people right now who are scared and hurting and I can’t bear the thought of them feeling like that for even a second longer. Especially not when I know I could help them. Every moment I’m not working is another moment they’re suffering. So I couldn’t live with myself if I stopped for any longer than I absolutely had to.”

Killua pauses for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. It’s such a quintessentially Gon way of looking at the situation--that impulse he’s always had to run himself completely ragged if it has even the slightest chance of helping someone else. Killua needs to find the right words to explain it to him, to explain that it doesn’t do anyone any good if he martyrs himself like this.

“Okay, think of it this way,” Killua says at last, an idea coming to him suddenly. “Let’s say you’re a firefighter and there are people trapped inside a burning building. It’s going to take you five minutes to put on your protective gear. The mask, the flame resistant clothes, the helmet, everything that will keep you safe as you go in to rescue them. But if you take the time to put on the gear, it’s five more minutes that those people are going to be trapped in the fire. Are you going to do it?”

Gon furrows his brow.

“Well, yeah, of course.”

“Exactly,” Killua replies. “Yes, it’s five more minutes that those people are going to be stuck, and there are very real consequences for every second they’re in that fire, but you have to take the time to put on your gear. If you don’t, you could get badly hurt trying to save them. Maybe so hurt that you’re not able to be of any real help at all. And even if you somehow manage to get everyone out, after enough trips into a burning building with nothing to protect yourself, your lungs are going to be too badly damaged from the smoke to keep going in and saving people. So it’s not selfish or irresponsible to take those five minutes to put on your gear, even if it delays the rescue by a little. It’s smart. Because if you don’t take that time, then before long, you won’t be any good to anyone.”

For a moment, Gon’s quiet, his brow still furrowed. He chews his bottom lip, looking down at the floor, and then finally lets out a slow, deep sigh.

“I kinda see what you mean,” he says softly. “When you put it like that. But I still--”

“I bet you feel exhausted,” Killua interrupts gently. “You’ve been running on fumes for weeks. And everything seems that much worse when you haven’t gotten enough sleep. I know it seems like the world will end if you take a break now, but I think you should go to bed and see how things look when you wake up. I’m guessing it won’t seem quite so dire.”

Killua still doesn’t know where any of this is coming from, the calm, gentle advice and reassurance. But if he had to guess, he’d say he probably picked this sort of thing up from Gon over the years. Killua couldn’t have spent that much time around someone so uniquely gifted with kindness and compassion and not have learned something along the way.

“Yeah, okay,” Gon says at last, voice hardly above a whisper. “I am a little tired, now that I think about it. I’ll… I’ll go to bed. And see how things look after some sleep.”

Killua reaches up to brush Gon’s hair back from his forehead again, and then trails his hand down the side of his face to gently cradle his jaw.

“That sounds good. Let’s go put on the protective gear. And then we can put out the fire.”

It’s only a slight, small thing, really just the barest hint, but Gon smiles.

“Okay. Gear first, then fire.”

**Author's Note:**

> if this fic wasn't clear enough, please be sure to rest, take care of yourself, and stay hydrated <3 self care is truly vital.
> 
> as always, i'm treasuring & replying to comments & am available to chat via [tumblr](https://storybookprincess.tumblr.com/)!!!!!
> 
> thanks for reading!!!! take good care until i see you again!!!! xo


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